Cahoonshee was reputed to be seven feet in height, with a large powerful frame. At a glance it was plainly to be seen that he was the true type of the Indian. High forehead, extended cheek bones, and a quick, twinkling eye. At the time we introduce him, he has passed his three-score-and-ten years. His hair is as white as snow; his voice low; his words few, and to the point. He belonged to a small tribe of the Delawares called Cahoonshees. When a small boy he was captured and taken to England. While there, he was painted in true Indian style, decked out with feathers in the most fantastic way, and carried around the country to be gazed at. This was repulsive to Cahoonshee, but for a long time he could not help himself. At length it was resolved to educate him for an interpreter and missionary. Cahoonshee proved to be an apt pupil, and in the end a good scholar. In a few years he mastered the English language and acquired a fair knowledge of the arts and sciences of that day. Then he returned to his native land, with the understanding on his part and on the part of the English that he was to remain in their employ and act as their agent and interpreter; and probably Cahoonshee intended to abide by this understanding when he left London. They landed at Manhattan in the evening, and it was difficult for the Captain of the Reindeer to persuade him to wait until next morning before he started for the rivers and mountains of his childhood. Before the sun had risen the next morning, he was landed at Weehawken, and started on foot to climb the Palisades. Reaching the summit, he cast his eye back at the deep waters of the Hudson, and mentally resolved never to cross it again. As the earth was becoming enshrouded in the mantle of night on the second day, he struck the waters of the Delaware. During his journey from the Hudson to the Delaware, he was made to feel sad. The ravages of Christianity was to be seen at every step. The Indian wigwam had disappeared, and the white man’s house had taken its place. The white man had appropriated the land, and the Indian had gone—where? Echo answers where! He stood on the bank of the river in silent meditation, living over again the days of his boyhood. When he hunted in these mountains, and fished in these streams, when his quick ear caught the sound of the canoe paddle. Looking in the direction of the sound, he saw a canoe swiftly approaching, containing but a single individual. The canoe was close to the shore where Cahoonshee stood. He was at a loss whether to hide or make himself known. He judged that the canoe contained a white man, but the evening had so far advanced that a gloom passed over the waters. Friend! said Cahoonshee in the Delaware tongue.